


The Finn Chronicles

by Scribomaniac



Series: Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hogwarts, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Magic, Romance, chronicles of finn, most likely, slight angst, teen life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6789106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribomaniac/pseuds/Scribomaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn was a completely average young boy.  He went to school, played sports, and lived happily with his family in London.  Yes, he was considered a completely normal and average eleven year old...until he received his letter inviting him to study at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.  After that, the words average and normal took on whole new meanings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slytherins on a Train

Finn stood in between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross Station and stared at the seemingly normal brick pillar before him with a furrowed brow and mouth set in a straight line. The ticket tightly held in his small hand stated in nicely printed font that the train he wanted—the Hogwarts Express—was scheduled to depart on this day, September 1st, at eleven o'clock in the morning, from platform nine and three quarters. This had made no sense to Finn the moment he read it, but his Hogwarts liaison, a white faced, skeletal looking man by the name of Snoke, had given him no more instruction on the matter. He'd simply given Finn the ticket, told him not to miss it, then disappeared amongst the hustle and bustle of the station's patrons.

Forgetting about all that, Finn returned his attention to the matter at hand. Checking his watch, he saw that he had almost a full hour to figure out what he needed to do to get onto this mysterious platform. He'd seen a family completely vanish into the pillar just ten minutes ago, but he hadn't been able to call out for help. By the time his mind registered what had happened, they were already gone. Puckering his mouth, he wondered if it really was as easy as it looked. Did he just have to run at the pillar? Or was there some sort of spell or incantation he had to perform to be accepted in? Looking down at his wand, he hoped he wouldn't have to perform any magic. He'd only just discovered he was a wizard about a month ago, after all. He didn't even know any spells!

Hearing hurried footsteps behind him, Finn peered over his shoulder, glanced back at the pillar, then snapped his head back to look at the family of three walking his way. They were obviously magical, Finn's gut told him so. The father of the group stood tall and relaxed, like he hadn't a care in the world. He had soft brown hair that reached past his ears, but not quite his shoulders, and a twinkle in his eyes that screamed of mischief. The mother looked like a woman ready to engage in battle with her spine as straight as a iron pole and a set jaw that made her look so terribly cold and unapproachable. The son, surprisingly, looked like neither of the parents. He had black, wavy hair, large, protruding ears, and a sloppy smile that made him look naively good.

“Hurry up, Han,” the mother called back to the father, who began to lag behind. “We don't want to miss the train!”

“The Hogwarts Express doesn't leave for another hour, Leia,” he responded calmly with a lazy smirk creeping onto his lips. “Relax.”

Pinning her husband with a sharp look, Leia hissed, “Don't say that so loudly!”

“What? Hogwarts Express?” Han snorted, “What do you care if the Muggles hear? It doesn't make sense to them anyway.”

Leia opened her mouth to respond, and the young boy's smile began to droop with disappointment, but Finn interrupted before anymore of the family dynamic could unravel. “Uh, excuse me,” he puffed out his chest, hoping to look confident, but knew his facial expression gave his fear and uncertainty away. “Are you going to platform nine and three quarters?”

Leia's eyes, which had been so hard and sharp just a moment ago, immediately softened as she surveyed the young boy in front of her. She smiled at him and Finn felt overwhelmed with how beautiful she looked when she wasn't completely terrifying him. “Platform nine and three quarters? Yes, we are! Are you going as well, young man?”

“Yes—yes ma'am, but, uh, well, I don't know how to—to—”

“To get on to the platform?” She finished for him with a nod, “First year then? Oh, you'll love it. It's Ben here's first year, too! Come along, then,” she placed her arm around Finn's shoulders and led him back towards the pillar he'd been staring at just a moment before. “So what we need to do is go through the pillar. Now, you have you're ticket—ah, there's a smart boy,” she nodded again after Finn's showed her the crumpled ticket clenched in his fist. “Han, Ben, you two go first so . . . I'm sorry dear, what's your name?”

“Finn.”

“So Finn here knows what to do. I'll go with you after so you're not afraid. We'll walk briskly through the pillar and just like _that_ ,” she snapped her fingers, “we'll be on the platform. Han, Ben?” She looked at them expectantly.

Rolling his eyes good naturedly, Han looked down at his son. “Ready, kid?” Ben nodded his head vigorously and the two started off towards the pillar, Ben's cart. Finn watched intently as they went. He didn't want to somehow accidentally mess everything up last minute. “Okay, okay, you'll be fine. You're gonna do great,” he whispered to himself under his breath.

“Ready?” Leia asked him. Finn nodded, gripped the rail of his cart tightly, and jogged towards the brick pillar with his eyes wide open. He must have blinked—or it seemed like he had—because his surroundings went dark for a moment, then not even half a second later everything around him had changed. Finn's jaw dropped open and he turned himself in small circles as he took everything in. The ceiling was raised higher than that of King's Cross and made of glass which enabled him to look out to the slightly cloudy sky outside. A massive and shiny red steam train idled off to the side, blowing out copious amounts of pure white smoke.

“Over here!” Han shouted, waving his arm over his head to gain his wife's attention. “No trouble getting through, then?”

“Of course not,” she smirked, “but then again, _I_ wasn't the one that got stuck between the gate once upon a time.”

Blushing and immediately losing his 'cool-guy' persona, Han glared and pointed at her, “Well, I wouldn't have gotten stuck if—”

“If mom hadn't chased you into the gate, making you drop your ticket,” Ben's tired, monotonous voice finished for his father. Rolling his eyes he continued, “Everyone knows that story, dad. Come on, Finn,” Ben smiled brightly at him. “Let's find a carriage before they all fill up!”

“Okay!” Finn readily agreed, secretly tremendously happy that Ben invited him to find a carriage. If he hadn't, Finn wasn't sure what he'd have done. After finding a carriage and securing their trunks, Ben said goodbye to his parents, and the two boys were left alone.

“So,” Ben said slowly, tentatively, “You're a first year, too?”

“Yeah!” Finn replied, his lips widening into his biggest smile of the day.

“Cool!” Ben nodded several times, “What house do you want to be in? I'm hoping for Slytherin, myself. All the men in my family were Slytherin,” he said proudly. Then, as an afterthought, he rolled his eyes and added, “Well, except for Uncle Luke. He was in Hufflepuff. But he's kinda weird.”

“Oh,” Finn's smile dimmed a bit as he thought. “I don't know. I hadn't thought about it.”

“Well, what houses were your parents in?”

“I don't know,” he said again, this time a little sheepishly. Giving Ben a shrug, he continued, “I'm a Muggle-born.”

“Oh,” Ben said slowly, then shrugged himself. “That's okay. My great grandfather was Muggle-born, too—on my father's side. My mother's side is completely Pure-blood, though. Just, um,” he became uncomfortable, his shoulders hunching into himself, “some people at school, well, they might not be okay with you being, uh, you know . . . Muggle-born, so if anyone asks just say Half-blood, okay?”

Finn nodded as if those words meant anything to him, “Um, okay—yeah I'll do that.” Biting the inside of his cheek, he looked around the carriage in hopes of starting a new line of conversation. Thankfully, he didn't have to because the next minute the carriage door opened up and two new children stepped in: a boy and a girl. The boy was small, small boned, with sharp, delicate facial features and flaming red hair. The girl behind him stood taller than any eleven year old Finn had ever seen. Her white blonde hair was cut close to her head and her dark eyes seemed to pierce straight through Finn's core.

“Ah, Solo, so this is where you've been hiding,” the boy sneered, his upper lip slightly curling. He and the girl walked in and took seats on either side of Ben. “Who's this?” He asked.

“Hux, this is my new friend Finn. Finn this is Hux,” Ben introduced, his pale cheeks reddening with either embarrassment or frustration.

Hux held out his hand all official like, “Pure-blood,” he said as a way of greeting. “And you?”

Finn took his hand, glanced at Ben quickly, then responded, “Half-blood.”

“Shame,” Hux pulled away then shook his head. “Phasma here is Half-blooded, too. Most students at Hogwarts are, actually.” His eyes flickered towards Ben, “Don't you think it's a shame, too, Ben?” His lips twisted into a cruel smile as he waited for his answer.

Crossing his arms and slouching down into his seat, Ben turned his face away to glare at the door of the carriage. “Bloody shame,” he finally mumbled under his breath. Finn didn't know what was going on, but it seemed like Hux had the upper hand over Ben and he didn't understand why.

“So Finn,” Phasma started, her voice as cool and melodic as a steady stream, “What house will you be in?”

“Oh, um,” he looked at Ben again, trying to figure out how to once more answer this question. Deciding to go with the truth, he told her, “I don't know.”

Phasma's eyes narrowed and she tilted her head, calculating his answer. Then, with a smirk, she turned to look at Hux and Ben, “Well, everyone knows what house these two want. Slytherin, of course.”

“The only truly acceptable house,” Hux told him with more severity than an eleven year old should be able to muster. “Every single member of my family was Slytherin. Ben here should be Slytherin, too, unless he's as much of a disappointment as his uncle.” Ben's cheeks burned a brighter red. “Phasma,” he paused, then smirked at her, “There's no way you'll even be considered for any other house.”

Phasma smirked with him conspiratorially, like it was some inside joke of theirs. After another beat, however, they all seemed to pull themselves out of their own worlds and started a new line of conversation. After a while the train began to move and Finn regained enough confidence to join in the conversation. After the initial awkwardness and what Finn took as mild hostility, Hux and Phasma both seemed to warm up to him—in their own way, anyhow. They listened to what he said and even agreed with him on some things.

Everything was going perfectly fine until ten minutes after the train departed. A girl with dark brown hair tied up into three buns opened the carriage door, “Hello,” she greeted, her hazel eyes wary, but friendly as she surveyed them, “Everywhere else is full. Mind if I join you?”

Finn opened his mouth to say she could, Hux asked, “Depends. What's your blood status?”  
“My what?” She asked, her eyes narrowing and her voice deepening as she sensed the threat that was an eleven year old boy.

“Your blood status,” Phasma tried to clarify, though her sneer seemed to imply that she already knew the answer to the question. “You know,” she said slowly, “Pure-blood, Half-blood . . . Mudblood.”

Ben's head snapped up. He first looked to Finn, his eyes wide with warning, then to the girl. He tried to discreetly mouth the word 'Half-blood' to her. The girl understood what he was doing, that he was trying to help, but wouldn't accept the hand out. “Mudblood,” she said proudly, starring down her two aggressors without a lick of shame. Before Hux even had a chance to send her away, she slammed the door to the carriage shut and walked away with her head held high.

Finn watched her go, wishing he had half the confidence she had. He didn't know what the term Mudblood meant—from the context he could take a pretty good guess—but that girl obviously did, and she decided to own it instead of hiding away behind the term Half-blood. “Can you believe that Mudblood,” Hux spat, his face turning blotchy with rage. “How dare she speak to us like that.”

“She'll be Gryffindor,” Phasma told them sagely, “The stupidity practically wafts off her in waves.”

The rest of the train ride was relatively subdued. Hux and Ben spoke almost completely of Quidditch and Phasma had pulled out a book almost immediately after that began. Finn, not knowing much about the sport besides what he gathered from their talk, kept pretty quiet, only speaking when directly spoken to. As a rule of thumb, he agreed with Ben on all things. If Ben favored the Puddlemere United, then so did Finn. If Ben thought the Plumpton Pass should be illegal, then so did Finn. Hux and Phasma might be nice—well, relatively—to him, but their friendship would be one of walking on egg shells. The only one he could really call friend and so far trust with his secrets was Ben. Hopefully they'd be sorted into the same house so he wouldn't have to give up this brand new friendship so quickly.

It was dark before the train stopped again. First Years were piled together and brought to the castle separately from the other students. Once they reached the castle, Finn couldn't keep his jaw from dropping, and eventually just left it hanging. The castle was amazing! Moving stairs, paintings that spoke could leave their canvases, and Finn swore he saw a little elf or goblin or something magical scurry off around a corner. Sticking close to Ben, Finn noticed that he was having a similar reaction to the surroundings. It seemed the only person not impressed with the castle was Hux, who kept his gaze level and straight before him.

Two large double doors opened up and they were led into the castle's Great Hall. Four long tables stood in the room and were surrounded by hundred of students wearing multiple colors. Finn looked up and, after being amazed by the lack of ceiling, saw the house banners dangling above each table. Figuring that each table represented a house, Finn wondered which house was which. He didn't have time to figure it out, though, because suddenly a small, ragged hat that sat upon a stool began to sing. Finn's eyes bugged out of his head as he watched the object move and almost dance.

A man with sandy blond hair and matching beard stood beside the hat and after it finished its song, pulled out a long parchment and began to read off the names written there. “Dameron, Poe!” A small boy with olive colored skin and dark, curly hair walked up, sat on the stool and waited for the hat to be placed on his head.

After a moments silence, the hat's stitched seam opened again and it called out, “GRYFFINDOR!” The table on the far right of the room, decorated with red and golds, clapped and cheered the arrival of their new student. A few more names were called, all being sorted into either Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor.

“General, Hux!” Was the next name called. Hux preened and made his way up the dais and onto the stool.

The hat barely touched his head before shouting out “SLYTHERIN!” The Slytherin table, on the far left hand side of the hall, cheered louder than any other table so far since Hux was their first Slytherin of the night.

“Plutt, Rey!” The girl from the train, with three buns in her hair, stalked up to the stool. Her brows were furrowed and her mouth set in a line. Finn thought she looked ready to take on their world all alone and if he had any money to bet, he'd bet on her to win.

The hat took a bit longer to determine her house, but eventually seemed pleased with his decision and called out “GRYFFINDOR!” Rey, with no change in her facial expression, quickly slid off the stool and made for her table. Ben made a small noise in his throat and Finn thought he looked almost disappointed that she'd been sorted to that house.

Some more named were called. Three girls into Hufflepuff, two boys and a girl into Ravenclaw, four boys and four girls to Gryffindor, two girls and another boy into Slytherin were all sorted before another familiar name was called. “Rines, Phasma.”

Again, the hat barely had to think, “SLYTHERIN!” Five more students were sorted after: two Ravenclaws, one Gryffindor, and two Hufflepuffs.

“Solo, Ben!” Ben gulped and walked up to sit on the stool. The bearded man gave Ben a friendly wink and placed the hat on his head. Then, with barely more than two seconds worth of thought, the hat made its decision.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Finn let out a shaky breath. Ben smiled brightly and made his way over to his cheering table. He gave Finn an excited two thumbs up before sitting down and Finn's mouth turned dry. “Trooper, Finn!” The bearded man called out. Finn hesitated, his feet frozen to the floor, before the other around him nudged him into movement. Stumbling his way up to the dais, He climbed up on the stool and waited for the hat to be placed on his head.

Once the hat was placed upon his head, all the noise within the Great Hall disappeared. Finn worried he'd done something wrong when the hat's voice sounded in his mind, “Hmm, where to put you, where to put you,” it pondered. Finn's mind flashed to Ben and the hat laughed, “Friendship, eh? That's what's important to you, hmm? Well, if that's the case Hufflepuff is the house for you!” But Finn didn't want that. He didn't want to be separated from his friend. His only friend. The hat chuckled softly, “You've got drive, that's for sure, and a good mind. You've discovered a good many thing for yourself in such a short amount of time. Shows your cleverness. You have ambition, too, that's good. Hmm, better be—

“SLYTHERIN!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Sucker Punched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything changed during the Halloween feast.

At first the days at Hogwarts were slow. The classes went by quickly enough. Finn enjoyed levitating feathers and pillows in Charms. History of Magic was fascinating because it enable him with a chance to learn about the history of witches and wizards without outing himself to his fellow Slytherins as a Muggle-born. Flying was . . . well, it wasn't exactly his favorite. Finn couldn't fly to save his life, but the awesome feeling of his heart pounding against his chest while he took off sort of made it worth it.

So although his classroom life was progressing quickly, his social life was what kept dragging on. It was hard to make friends in Hogwarts, Finn thought. Most of his Housemates had been friends since childhood, and although he and Ben had remained friendly, and Finn did consider him a friend, he was found more often than not in the presence of Hux and Phasma. Still unsure about those two—add in the fact that since the Hogwarts Express, neither had even glanced his way—Finn tried to find friends outside of his own House. However, as soon as other First Years saw the green and silver colors of his tie, they quickly decided they wanted nothing to do with him and, with noses turned up to the sky, would quickly walk off. After almost two months of this behavior, and the sluggish passage of time, Finn resigned himself to a slow, lonely life at Hogwarts.

Everything changed, though, during the school's Halloween feast. Not even taking one step into the Great Hall, Finn stopped dead in his tracks and stared forward with eyes wide and mouth agape. Illuminated Jack-o-Lanterns floated high towards the invisible ceiling where dozens of bats flew through the night sky. Blinking, and slowly pulling himself out of his daze, Finn continued to walk towards the Slytherin table. He was about to sit down at an empty seat between two different friend groups when a voice shouted out, “Trooper!”

Looking around with surprise, Finn looked for the source of the voice that called his surname. It took him a few seconds to realize it was Hux who'd called him out. The skinny, pasty boy sat a few seats down, Phasma on his right and Ben across from him, with a tight smile on his lips and his hand partially raised in greeting. Gulping, Finn nodded to the other boy and when Hux motioned for him to come closer, his brows raised so high on his head that Finn worried they'd raised right off. Walking over towards them and standing next to Ben's sitting form, Finn waited for whatever Hux had to say. “Sit down, Trooper,” Phasma ordered. Finn was sure it was meant to be a request, but also figured that Phasma didn't understand the meaning of the word.

Confused, but not questioning their motives just yet, Finn sat down on Ben's right and across from Phasma. He played with the edge of the table with the tips of his fingers gingerly as he waited for something more to be said. “So, Finn,” Ben started, his eyes flickering up to make eye contact, “have you started your Potions essay yet?” Then, after turning beet red, bit down on his lower lip and continued in a rush. “I'm half way finished. Same with Hux. Phasma's finished—” Hux made a snort like sound, “—and we wondered if you wanted to work on it with us,” he nodded his head towards Hux.

“It's only practical, really.” Hux drawled, as if it had been his idea all along. “Studying in groups makes the work go by faster, after all. Ooh,” he reached over Phasma and plucked a large, black and orange lollipop from inside a decorative cauldron.

“Professor Ackbar is the worst, isn't he?” Phasma said with a sigh. She picked at some of the food on her plate before continuing. “Imagine, him giving us a fifteen inch essay our first year. It's ludicrous. I cannot believe he's allowed to teach here.”

“Well considering who the Headmaster is, are you really all that surprised?” Hux asked rhetorically with a roll of his eyes and sucked on a portion of his sweet.

Finn looked up to the head table where all the professors sat and quickly found the Headmaster sitting in the middle. Headmaster Obi-Wan 'Old Ben' Kenobi. Finn hadn't had much interaction with the man, and all he knew was that Kenobi used to teach History of Magic and was a Ravenclaw back when he was a student at Hogwarts himself.

“What do you think, Ben?” Hux's voice drew Finn's attention back to the table. “When do you think the old man will retire?”

“You're uncle Luke is the Deputy Headmaster, right? He should know,” Phasma added.

“Wait, Professor Luke is your uncle?” He asked, looking at Ben.

Ben's brows furrowed, almost making him look like he had one uni-brow, “Yeah, I told you about his, didn't I? On the train?”

“Oh,” Finn stalled. He could feel his cheeks darkening with embarrassment. He remembered Ben mentioning his weird uncle, but Finn hadn't connected the dots from 'weird uncle Luke' to Professor Luke. “Oh yeah,” he said. “I remember now.” Turning his gaze down to the table, Finn busied himself with piling food onto his plate.

“I'm surprised the Minister of Magic hasn't had him removed already, to be completely honest,” Hux said offhandedly. “My grandfather says Minister Palpatine has put considerable thought into it.”

“How would he know?” Finn's eyes widened as he realized what he said and immediately began stuffing food into his mouth in hopes of shutting himself up.

Sitting up even straighter than he already was, Hux preened and seemed absolutely pleased at the chance to explain who his grandfather was. “He's a close friend, and on the school's board of governors. Moff Tarkin, I'm sure you've heard of him . . .” at Finn's wide, blank eyes, Hux's lip curled and he finished with, “even if you don't recall at this very moment.”

“Er, anyway,” Ben stepped in, and tried to change the subject, “have you two gotten any new Chocolate Frog Cards? I'm still looking for Mopsus.”

After that all conversation circled around lighter subjects and less around politics that Finn knew he'd never understand. Once the stakes didn't seem so high, Finn was able to learn more about Hux and Phasma. After a while, they didn't seem so bad to him. Yes, he conceded mentally, they were sharp with their words, cruel with their smiles, and generally rough around the edges, but that was mainly directed towards their enemies—or those they considered enemies. Somehow—and Finn didn't know how, though he suspected Ben had something to do with it, for which he was grateful—during the Halloween feast, Finn was offered the hand of friendship, and he took it.

After that night, time began to fly by so quickly Finn barely knew what to do with himself. Autumn turned into Winter, and Winter eventually turned into Spring, and before Finn knew it final exams were breathing down his neck. Before that, however, was the last Quidditch match of the year. Finn had fallen in love with the game the moment he first saw the players push up off the ground and into the air on their brooms. Although the last game for the Inter-House Cup wouldn't showcase Slytherin, as their last game had been two weeks earlier, Finn was still excited for the game nevertheless. Unfortunately, since Slytherin was dead last in the Cup rankings this year, most of the other Slytherins did not feel the same way as he.

Hux wanted nothing to do with the match, instead deciding to spend his time studying in the Slytherin common room. Phasma, who'd been more than prepared for her final exams since before May even began, had shrugged at Finn's request to come and watch the game, stating she had nothing better to do. Ben was the easiest to convince. He didn't want to stay cooped up in the castle studying and he loved the game almost as much as Finn. Almost.

The match was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw and the stadium was packed with students wearing scarlet and blue. “Sure is packed,” Ben remarked amicably behind Finn who was trying to push his way towards a few empty seats he saw off to the left.

“Sure is!” Finn agreed immediately, shouting over his shoulder so his friends could hear him. “Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor for the championship! Neither team has lost a game yet, you know.” Finn muscled his way through a gaggle of Ravenclaw girls. “Whoever loses will get second—well,” Finn paused and scrunched his nose up as he reconsidered his words, “so long as the loser doesn't give away more than three hundred points, that is. If they do that, then Hufflepuff will weasel their way into second.”

Ben snorted, “Appropriate.”

Simultaneously, Phasma said as monotonously as a robot, “And Slytherin will still end up fourth.”

“Someone's got to,” Finn responded with a cheeky smile that only made Phasma raise a brow at him. Finally trudging through their last group of students—a blend of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw this time, taking bets, apparently—they finally reached Finn's intended destination. A large group of Slytherins sat further to their left, but Finn knew it'd be almost impossible to find a space large enough for the three of them there. Not to mention that their current seats were better for viewing. So what if Ravenclaws sat behind them and Gryffindors in front of them? They still got the stink eye from a few Gryffindors before they sat, but Finn couldn't care less. He was all abuzz, bouncing up and down on the bench with unadulterated excitement.

As the two teams took the pitch, the crowd went wild. The student body screamed so loudly that Finn and Ben had to cover their ears and even Phasma looked disgruntled by the noise. “Hey, wait a minute!” Finn began to object, pointing out towards the pitch. “Gryffindor's got a new player! Look—look!” He shouted half furiously to his friends. “They've got a new Chaser!”

Phasma looked straight at him, a bored expression on her face. “So?”

“So!” Finn exclaimed, eyes wide and arms flailing wildly around him. “So, who is he?”

“Poe Dameron,” Ben supplied. His tone was clipped and his expression dark. “He's a First Year, like us.”

A girl sitting in front of them glanced back over her shoulder, overhearing their conversation. Her stern expression and three bun hair style giving away her identity: Rey Plutt. Neither Ben nor Phasma paid her any mind, however, and so Finn decided he wouldn't either—although that was very difficult for him, seeing as how he blushed hotter than a red sun whenever he saw her. Shaking distracting thoughts out of his head, Finn asked, “What happened to Netal?”

“I heard she broke up with her boyfriend,” Ben shrugged, still glaring at Poe Dameron's small frame. “Had an emotional breakdown or something.”

“Or something,” Phasma rolled her eyes.

“How do you guys know this and I don't?” He asked, two steps away from being indignant.

“The breakup happened yesterday afternoon,” Phasma explained. “The switch must have happened yesterday evening.”

“Oh,” Finn said, then returned his attention to the pitch where Snoke—the creepy, skeletal looking man that accompanied Finn for his school shopping—had the team captains shake hands and then blew the whistle, signaling the start of the game. “Whoa!” He exclaimed as he watched Poe Dameron take off on his broom. “Look at him fly!” Dameron flew like he was born to. He glided above the rest of the players, bobbed in and out with the Quaffle, and scored Gryffindor's first goal within the first five minutes of the game. Palms turning hot ans sweaty, Finn watched Dameron with utter awe. Every time he flew up high, Finn's heart fluttered up to his throat, and ever time he dipped low, Finn's heart dipped into his stomach with him. His body tingled with second hand adrenaline. “He's amazing!” Finn said, because it was true.

“The best flyer our school's seen in a century,” Ben snapped, his voice unnaturally low and condescending, as if he were mimicking someone. His shoulders were hunched inwards and his bottom lip jutted out in an unattractive pout. This time, when he furrowed his brow it really did make it seem like he had a uni-brow.

Phasma seemed unphased by his behavior, so Finn tried to ignore it as well. Who knows, Finn thought, maybe Ben had eaten something bad during breakfast and that's why he was acting so crabby. “I don't understand, though,” he started slowly, trying to watch both Ben and the game at the same time, “if he can fly this well, why hasn't he been on the team the whole season?”

Ben simply hunched over more, but thankfully Phasma had an answer. “He probably didn't try out. First Years aren't allowed a broom, remember?” Her lip curled up slightly in thought, “They must have made an exception because of Netal.” Finn looked up at the game again. Gryffindor was up fifty points to zero. If Dameron had played the whole season, he thought as he watched Dameron steal the Quaffle from a Ravenclaw Chaser, the other Houses wouldn't have stood a chance.

The game continued on in that manner. Poe Dameron stole the show and barely allowed Ravenclaw to score fifty points. He was like a one man team. The students from the other Houses groaned towards one another. With Dameron in the game, it looked like Gryffindor would be Cup champions for the next seven years. Eventually, once the Gryffindor Seeker caught the Snitch, the game finished and the students began to stand—some even began settling their debts.

“Looks like Hufflepuff will weasel their way to second after all,” Phasma stated matter of fact like with a dry grin.

“All because of that stupid Dameron,” Ben sneered, his upper lip pulling back far enough that you could see some of his teeth. Rey, who still sat in front of them, straightened her shoulders. She seemed to be bracing for something.

“Ah, Ben,” Finn tried to warn, eyeing Rey suspiciously.

“It's completely unfair,” Ben continued, not heeding his friend's words. “Gryffindor always does this, too. Breaking the rules when it helps them win, but judging and degrading others who do the same. They claim to courageous, but really they're just self righteous, and Dameron's the prime example of that.”

“What have you got against Poe?” Rey asked from below them. Her voice, which should have been drowned out by the background noise of the stadium, carried up to their ears with perfect clarity. She'd stood up while Ben ranted and turned towards them, giving them the best view of her glare. Finn now understood the phrase 'if looks could kill'. If they could, he was sure Ben would have been burned alive right where he stood. “The entire game you've been complaining: Dameron this, Dameron that. Well? What's your problem?” She placed her balled up fists on her hips and looked Ben in the eyes, expectantly.

Mouth puckering like a caught fish, Ben stared at the girl before him. She was something fierce, and at first Ben didn't seem to know what to do with her. After two blinks and a gulp, though, he regained his composure and stood up as well so he could tower over her. Rey didn't step back though, nor did she seem fazed by their height difference. Her confidence struck Finn in a way that gave him the impression that she had stood up to taller bullies before—and won. “What are you? Ben asked, a slight smirk to his lips. “His girlfriend?”

Phasma barked out a laugh and stood up to also stare the Gryffindor girl down. “Or a groupie,” she added with a smirk of her own.

“Yeah?” Ben smiled fully now. A mean one. One that showed only teeth and no friendship. “Want me to get an autograph for you? How should he sign it? For my number one fan: triple bun?” He and Phasma laughed cruelly. Finn grimaced when he saw Rey's face turn red with embarrassment, but stayed seated where he was. He found it was always better not to get involved when his friends got like this.

“Triple bun?” Rey repeated, her red face turning deadly serious and losing all signs of anger. “Are you making fun of my hair?”

“Yeah,” Ben pushed out the last of his laugh. “What are you gonna do about it?” He glanced gleefully at Phasma. “Cry?”

Ben and Phasma began to laugh again, and Finn could see this was their mistake. Or, more importantly, Ben's. Tilting his head back to laugh fully at Rey's expense, she took that vulnerable moment to rear her arm back and sack him right in the stomach. Eyes bulging wide, Ben made no sound as he sucked in the air around him. His legs seemed to give out underneath him from the shock of the blow. Bending down to his knees, Ben let out a high pitched whine and curled into himself, his arms protectively covering his stomach. He began to dry heave as his stomach attempted to empty its contents.

Face as serious as ever, Rey looked down at Ben's crippled form and told him plainly, “Don't make fun of my hair.” Phasma and Finn watched in frozen shock as Rey, without another word, walked away from them with her head held high. Once she was gone—and Finn had a sneaking suspicion Phasma actually waited until Rey was out of hearing range—Phasma sneered, “Typical Mud-blood behavior, throwing their fists like barbarians instead of using wands like civilized people.”

Ben moaned lowly, bring Finn and Phasma's attention back to him. Grimacing Finn kneeled down to get a better look at him. “You might want to get Mister Epeayo,” he told Phasma. “I don't think Ben's gonna be getting up anytime soon.” While Phasma went to fetch the school's nurse, Finn's eyes strayed to Rey's retreating back and he gulped as his heart began to flutter wildly in his chest, pounding harder, even, than during Flying class.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe as the greatest flyer the school has seen in a century gives me life! And don't worry, this is still a StormPilot fic! 
> 
> Comments/kudos/whatever are always welcome! And if anyone has any suggestions of how to fit Anikin/Darth Vader into this story please tell me because I am all ears! (Idk, maybe deputy minister if that's even a thing? Or works in the Department of Mysteries? Or as an Auror?)


	3. A Fortnight with the Solo Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben invites Finn to spend part of their summer holiday at his family's estate and Finn gets a small glimpse of the Solo family dynamic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think!

The moment Finn saw the Solo family manor, even from a great distance, his jaw dropped. Ben had invited him to spend part of the summer holiday with him at his estate in Oxfordshire. After a few owl messages and even fewer telephone calls—even the most muggle savvy wizard took issue with those—it was settled between their parents. Finn would spend a fortnight with the Solo family, and during his stay would also join them on their trip to Diagon Alley to purchase new supplies for their second year at Hogwarts.

As he journeyed closer to the manor, Finn mused that it belonged in one of his mother's period dramas written by Jane Austen. The car he was riding in, driven by a small, thin looking wizard by the name of Bert, stopped just outside the great doors. Quicker than Finn would have ever suspected, Bert scuttled out of the driver's seat and opened the door for Finn to exit the car. Finn stood in front of the massive house—a castle, really—with wide eyes. Two large wooden doors, almost hidden behind four Greek columns, groaned with the strain of opening and Ben's small form appeared on the other side. “Finn!” He called out, his smile sloppy and genuine. His feet flew down the several stone steps that separated them and pulled his friend in for a quick, brotherly hug. “You made it! Great. Want to play some quidditch? Dad just got me a new broom so we can take turns using it and—”

“Now, Ben,” Leia, Ben's mother, chided gently, “your friend has only just arrived. Why don't you let him relax and settle in before dragging him off to the quidditch pitch, hmm?” She looked down at Finn, and her eyes shined with kindness and recollection, “Finn, it's good to see you again. Ben's been telling us all about you.” Finn nodded and smiled back, unsure how to respond to such a statement. She reached out and shook his hand then turned to her son. “You two have fun now, all right? And be smart. I have to run over to the office real quick and I don't want to come home to find the manor looking like it's been ransacked.”

Ben's lips pursed with frustration, but he swallowed it down and nodded, “Yeah, okay. Come on, Finn. I'll show you to your room.” Ben led the way through the house, stopping every now and again to give Finn time to catch up. He hoped he'd have time within the next to weeks for a proper tour, but knowing Ben, Finn wasn't exactly betting on it. Perhaps Bart, Finn thought idly. They passed what looked like—at least at a glimpse—a great hall and ventured up several stairs to the second floor.

“Wow,” Finn sighed, admiring all the oil paintings of Ben's ancestors that waved as they walked by. “This place is like a mini Hogwarts!”

“Hmm?” Ben hummed, ignoring one of the paintings of a young woman who seemed determined to catch his eye. “Oh yeah, kinda. It's almost as old, actually. It's been in my family for ages. Centuries upon centuries.” Ben's cheeks glowed red with the hue of pride.

“Wow, I didn't know Solo was that ancient a name,” Finn said.

“What?” Ben blinked, “Oh, no, it's not. This estate came from my mom's side of the family. Well, my grandmother's side to be more specific. The Amidala family. Technically it should have been passed down to my uncle, but you know Luke,” he rolled his eyes, “he has a wandering spirit. Or so my mom says. So my mom took it. Though to be honest,” he said slowly, taking the time to wave hello to another painting of a woman, though this one older and with a title plaque reading ' _Padme_ '. “Even if he were the sort to settle down, my mom probably still would have inherited. She's older, and can be a bully when she wants to be.” He finished with a smirk. “You'll see, when dad comes home.” His brows furrowed and demeanor darkened, “If he comes home,” he muttered under his breath.

Finn heard, but chose to ignore it. He didn't know what the Solo family dynamic was really like, and so didn't know how to comfort his friend. All he could really tell was Ben's father was a sore subject and best left alone. “What about your grandparents?” He gestured to another painting of a loving couple, enjoying each others embrace—their plaque read; _Anikin and Padme_. “Are they still alive?”

“Grandfather is, yeah, but he hasn't lived here since grandmother passed. And that was ages ago. Now he lives in a London townhouse, close to the Ministry.” Ben moved on, but Finn took a few extra moments to look at the painting of Ben's grandparents. They looked like they loved each other more than the universe, and Finn wondered if he'd ever love anyone that way. Shaking his head, he jogged to catch up to Ben. “Hux is going to visit tomorrow, too,” Ben informed him. “He'll stay for four days, and Phasma, she'll be coming a day after him, will stay for two. I didn't tell them how long you'd be staying,” Ben admitted with a light blush of embarrassment, “in case they wanted to stay longer, too. You know?”

“Yeah,” Finn smiled, his cheeks dimpling. “Sounds good to me. So—” he redirected the subject, knowing by Ben's hunched shoulders that he was close to emotional overload, “Are we almost there or will we have to journey through Narnia to get to my room?”

“Narnya?” Ben questioned, “What's Narnya?” He shook his head, “No, whatever that is, no, you're room is right here.” He opened a door and Finn thought this time his eyes would pop out of his sockets.

“This room is larger than my entire flat!” He walked in, looked up at the vaulted ceiling and spun around, trying to absorb all the detail. “This place is incredible,” he sighed. His luggage was already packed away and his belongings put into their proper place within the room. Finn didn't understand how Bert could have done all this so quickly, but didn't dwell on it too much. After everything he'd learned the past year, he knew not to question the perks of magic.

“So,” Ben said slowly, carefully. “Ready for that quidditch game?” Finn blinked at him for a moment, still reeling from all the decadence he's walked into. Then, with a moment of clarity, he grinned at Ben and Ben grinned back.

* * *

 

The next few days flew by in a blur. Hux came. Then Phasma. Quidditch was played, cards were traded, and then they left. Neither of them had been as amazed by Ben's house as he had been, so Finn was glad they all hadn't arrived on the same day. Staying at Ben's home was like staying in a dream. With Bert as their main form of supervision, they reigned supreme throughout the house. Doing whatever they wished, whenever they wished. Leia was often busy in London, working at the Ministry, and come home during the early hours in the morning, if at all. And a full week had passed before Han Solo made an appearance.

Ben and Finn had been eating dinner dead center on the floor in the Great Hall. Three House Elves— _House Elves_! Finn still couldn't believe it—skirted in and out of their vision, ready and waiting to take away plates or refill what was needed. They all disappeared though when footsteps could be heard echoing down the marble hall way. The door to the Great Hall opened and Finn looked up to see Han Solo leaning against the entryway. “What's for dinner?” He asked, pushing himself off the door jamb and walked towards them.

“Shepherds pie,” Finn said when it was clear Ben was going to remain silent.

Han stopped walking for a moment to look at Finn and after a beat asked, “Who're you?”

“Dad,” Ben looked up to the ceiling, as if it would save him from his father somehow. “This is the friend I was talking about, F—”

“Oh, right!' Han's voice reverberated over his son's. “Flynn, right? Yeah, I remember you telling me about him now.” He smiled, completely at ease, down at Finn before taking a seat beside him. “So how's the manor treating you, Flynn?”

“ _Finn_ , dad,” Ben groaned.

“Ah, it's treating me fine, sir.” Finn's response was simultaneous to Ben's, so he doubted Han heard either of their words.

“That's good,” Han nodded and scooped up Ben's plate with half a shepherds pie still on it and began to eat. “Haven't gotten lost yet then? To this day I still get lost and have to have the portraits guide me back to where I originally wanted to go.”

“Dad!” Ben growled, grabbing for his plate back. “Get your own!”

Han looked at his son with a coy smile on his lips, then let go of the plate. “Fine, if you don't want to share your pie then I guess I don't have to share my gift.”

“What gift?” Ben asked, his eyes brightening and his posture perking up. “What gift?” He asked again, and began pushing the plate back towards his father. “You can have the rest—it's fine!”

“Oh how kind of you, highness, to share your scraps.” Han said dryly with a playful roll of his eyes. With one hand he pulled out his wand and give with a flick, and with the other he placed a bit more of pie in his mouth. From the door of the Great Hall, a long, slender package flew through. It's destination: Han. It stopped millimeters before slamming in to the back of his head and Han twisted around so he could grab it and hand it to his son. “There you go, highness.”

Ben wasted no time ripping the parcel open, his face alight with excitement. Excitement soon dulled to confusion, though, when Ben unveiled a broom. “A broom?” He asked slowly, “But, you just got me one.”

“Did I?” Han raised both his arms above his head and stretched languidly, unperturbed by his son's apparent disappointment. “Well this one's better. Trust me,” He gave Ben a wink. “Chewie scored it off some vampire in Romania. Don't tell your mother,” he laughed. “Go on, give it a test fly while I polish off these plates.” Ben looked over to Finn, who gave him a weak smile. Shaking his head with a sigh, Ben stood up and walked to the other doors in the Great Hall that led to the Great Courtyard.

Finn watched as Ben took a quick lap around the courtyard. Finn thought Han was right, the broom did seem to fly better than the other they'd been sharing during the week. Ben landed in front of Finn, his lips tight and his brow furrowed. “So what do you think?” Finn asked, not sure what else to do. “It looked like it flew well.”

“Yeah,” Ben blinked, then blinked again, as if realizing someone was in front of him. “Yeah, it flies really well. But I just . . . don't understand. I thought—I mean why would I— _two brooms_? And brand new, too. Did he just—” He shook his head and quieted his tongue.

“So,” Finn said slowly, not understanding why Ben was so distraught over having two brooms. “What're you going to do with the other one?” Ben looked at him, confused. “You know, now that you do have two brooms.”

“Oh,” he looked down at the broom in his hand. “Well, I don't need two . . .,” he looked up, “do you want the other one?”

“What? Really?” Finn asked, his brow quirking with a hint of suspicion. Brooms were pricey, he knew, and not given away lightly. “You serious?”

“Yeah, sure why not?” Ben shrugged. “I'm not gonna use it. And this way you'll be able to practice more,” Ben grinned, “maybe you'll even learn to fly well enough by seventh year to make the quidditch team.”

“Ha, ha,” Finn pushed Ben's shoulder. “If you're so great, why don't you prove it? One on one quidditch, you and me.”

Ben smiled, that same large, sloppy grin and pushed back, “You're on!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking of changing things up with this fic. I might make it a drabble/series of one shots instead of a continuously flowing fic because although I love baby Finn, there's not too much going on in between these highlighted scenes I've got in my head like his and Poe's first kiss, how they first meet, and so on. That'll probably occur during the next chapter and if o I'll give you a heads u in the notes.

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I wrote the Hogwarts drabble with Rey and Kylo, my friend and I gushed about all the other characters and which houses they'd be in. We especially talked about Finn in depth and how he goes from Slytherin House and hanging with the First Order gang to hanging with Poe and Rey. So after that all happened, I saw a post on tumblr about how few fics there are about Finn (there are apparently more Hux fics than Finn fics) and I immediately thought: I can fix that.
> 
> Anyway, kudos or comments are always appreciated! Next chapter will probably be in two weeks or so? I post updates about my writing projects on my tumblr: scribomaniac


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